


The Assignment

by bluebellsandcocklesshells



Series: 642 Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellsandcocklesshells/pseuds/bluebellsandcocklesshells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt 3 of 642: Boil down Hamlet, Shakespeare’s longest play, to a tweet.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 3 of 642: Boil down Hamlet, Shakespeare’s longest play, to a tweet.

_My dad’s dead, my mom’s a slut, my uncle’s a jerk, my girlfriend’s crazy, and Fortinbras is a dirty opportunist. #wherearethosetwoidiots_

Dean looked at his handiwork.  “I like it.”

His boyfriend pushed up from the bed and leaned over his shoulder.  He scowled.  “I hate this assignment.”

They were in Dean’s room, doing homework on a Friday night because Castiel was only a rebel about things he was interested in rebelling against.  Of course, they were only just starting their homework at six o’clock because Dean had managed to coax Cas into a marathon make out session on the bed.  His blue balls were regretting that decision at the moment, but his worn out lips and the lingering fuzzy feeling felt like a win.

Dean was on his stomach, occasionally shifting his half a boner against the mattress for a little pleasant groin tingling, and Cas had been on his back rereading a passage from Shakespeare’s _Hamlet_.  Now he was half lying on Dean, his chin hooked on his shoulder, and Dean’s groin was tingling more than ever.

“This is so stupid,” Cas continued.  “Catering to the vulgar shallowness of social media.  If Shakespeare could have written _Hamlet_ in one hundred and forty characters, he would have.”

“Come on, dude.  It’s just an exercise to see if we’re paying attention.  Or can understand what we’re reading.”

“How hard is that?  Our copy has a modern translation of the text next to the original.  No one even has to read the original version or appreciate the meter and cadence of the writing.”

“Meter and cadence of the writing?  What?  Why am I dating you?  Ugh.”

“Shut up,” Cas grumbled and slipped down to rest his head on the bed.  He looked up at his boyfriend and Dean felt his heart get a little erratic as he watched those too blue eyes watching him.

Cas raised a hand and traced the shell of Dean’s ear, eliciting a shiver from him.  “Why _are_ you dating me?”

Dean shrugged.  “Because you said yes.”

Cas’ lips fought between a frown and a smile.  “Alright.  Why did you ask?”  He brushed the backs of his fingers over Dean’s cheek.  “You know you could have had me without the dating part.  Why do you want more?”

Dean swallowed thickly remembering their first time together.  His poor mattress was getting mightily abused.

“I…because.  I guess because…as much as it feels good to…to…”  Dean blushed so hotly he got a little dizzy.  This was the real reason they didn’t have sex that often—it overwhelmed Dean.  He cleared his throat.  “As good as all that feels…I like this better.”

“This?”

“Lying next to you.  Talking about stupid English assignments.  Debating whether burger patties taste better with onion or garlic mixed in them.  And then realizing it would probably be best with both.  I just like you, Cas.  Except when you make me say stupid, embarrassing shit.”

He groaned and tried to bury his face in the bed, but smacked his forehead into his notebook instead.  Cas’ long fingers began to comb through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I like lying here with you too,” he said softly.  “I like how you make me feel braver.  How you make me feel excited to wake up in the morning because it means I’ll get to see you.”

Dean groaned again.  This was so fucking embarrassing.

“I like how you make me feel like I think that I’m in love.”

Dean shook his head and the page under his forehead crinkled.

“I like how you shake when I touch you.”

Dean stopped breathing.

“I like how you hold me when I take you inside me.”

“Cas!” Dean squeaked.

“I like how you look like you might just break apart when I come inside you.”

Dean suddenly sat up with a yell, grabbed a pillow, and shoved it over Cas’ face.  “Stop!  Stop!”

Cas started laughing and Dean began to beat him with the pillow.  Cas’ laughter turned to giggles and Dean hit him until he needed to stop to catch his breath.  Cas snatched the pillow out of his hands and sat up, grinning.

“You’re the worst boyfriend in the world,” Dean grumbled.

“I’m the best,” Cas countered as he kissed Dean’s cheek.  “What do you say we blow off the rest of our homework and go play _Fallout_ downstairs?”

“Okay.”  Dean bounced off the bed, happy to focus on something other than how much his relationship with Cas scared him a little bit.  “It’s kind of awesome that for once I’m actually ahead on our homework.”

“How do you figure?” Cas asked, pulling on a sock that had slipped off while taking his pillow-beating.

“I’m done with my English assignment.”

“Oh.  I finished that before we started making out.”

“What?!  What did you write?”

Cas handed him his notebook.  Dean looked at Cas’ Twitter interpretation of _Hamlet_.  He gave his boyfriend a look and Cas gave him a wink.  Dean rolled his eyes and tossed the notebook onto the bed.

_#everybodydies_


End file.
